


Something Between Us

by Always_Dreaming



Category: The D Train (2015)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Look At Your Life Look At Your Choices, M/M, Poor Life Choices, Still teenagers, mid life crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_Dreaming/pseuds/Always_Dreaming
Summary: Dan is now a successful businessman, and goes on a business trip (a genuine one this time) to LA. He stumbles across Oliver, who is in a bad way.





	Something Between Us

“What a great day, Dan!” said Dale Harkin as he poked his head round the door of his business partner’s office. “We’re doing well, aren’t we!”

Dan smiled at his best friend. “Yeah, thanks to you. I owe you, man. Sorry I don’t tell you that enough.”

“It’s nothing, buddy.” He blushed then smiled, saying, “See you tomorrow,” then left for home.

Dan swung back in his chair with his hands behind his head. The swivel chair creaked mightily, because Dan had put on weight during the last five years—he feared every time he swung back he’d fall on his ass, but since the twenty-year class reunion, he’d got comfortable with living dangerously. He chuckled at himself thinking of a chair as living dangerously…compared to what happened at the reunion. But his life was different now. Even his office showed that. The tired old brown decor had been replaced by modern, clean grey and white. He now had a white desk which sat on a grey carpet, the windows had been replaced with larger panes so he got more sun in his room. Everything was good in his life now.

Anyway. He must focus. The business trip to LA this year—a real business trip, not some fake one concocted for the sake of impressing others—was very important and he mustn’t mess it up. Dale’s investment in Bill’s business had saved his neck, and his investment in Dan’s wellbeing had saved his life.

Dale was a really good guy. He understood the Oliver situation five years ago, as he was equally besotted with their former classmate. He listened endlessly to Dan talking about what happened, he was the only one Dan confided in, and he was the only one who understood it. Everyone else just saw the situation as ‘Dan cheated on Stacey with Oliver’ which was factually true. And yet…it was more complicated than that.

He shook these thoughts out of his mind—it was only because he had to travel to LA next week that Oliver had reappeared in his thoughts. He hadn’t contacted him since he gave him his t-shirt back that day outside his home. 

_Come on, man, pull yourself together, stop thinking about that jerk._ He looked at his phone—six o’clock! Time for dinner. He hurried out of the office as fast as he could, although it was more of a waddle these days, thanks to all the extravagant business lunches! And the comfort eating he did to make up for Stacey’s increasing distance from him—they hardly ever had sex anymore. But he really needed to lose weight, his trousers were getting so tight. _I must get a personal trainer, but when would I fit in exercising? When I’m not in my office, I’m at my voluntary job three nights a week. Maybe I should walk home instead? That's an idea._ He frowned as he got in his car.

***

“LA?” said Stacey as she served the potatoes for dinner. “You’re going to…LA? Again?” She pursed her lips.

“It’s fine Stace. It won’t be anything like the last time. I promise. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” He mimed sticking a needle in his eye and writhing in agony.

She smirked at his silliness.

“I’m going to meet Jay Jay Schussler, to talk about merging our businesses. He thinks we could open a branch in LA—”

His wife gasped. “I am NOT moving to LA, Dan! Never!”

“It’s okay, Dale would run the LA office, with Jay Jay,” Dan soothed. “I’d never even have to go there.”

“So, why do you have to go this time? Why can’t Dale go?”

“You know Marcy is about to have her baby? Come on Stace, you know that. He can’t leave her right now.”

“Hm.” She pursed her lips.

“I’ll be back before you know it. D Biz has to do the biz to get the money for his honey.” 

Stacey sighed. “Why don’t you just call yourself Dan for once?”

Dan put his arms round his wife from behind but she didn’t relax into him like she used to. She was very aloof these days, always busy with her quilt making group or line dancing club or French language classes. And now Zach was in college and Milly in school, they should have had more time as a couple but somehow…it never worked out that way.

***

The flight out to LA was comfortable—more so now he could afford business class—and he didn’t have the annoyance of Bill sitting next to him, now his boss had retired. He felt a sense of relief washing over him. Everything would be alright.

Jay Jay was a clever and funny man, and Dan had a riotous lunch with him and his three colleagues. They were all in their twenties and Dan felt like their dad, but as is the wont of young people, they talked a lot about themselves. Dan just had to listen and give advice, and they were grateful. He was good at that now—nothing shocked him and people were always telling him their problems. He considered changing his nickname to D Shrink, but that was too silly even for him, and it had pretty negative connotations for a man. He didn’t want a negative nickname.

After the lunch, the four executives walked with Dan back to his hotel as he wasn’t sure of the way and they knew shortcuts. They’d all been drinking wine with lunch, so the banter was getting louder and louder, everyone pushing and shoving each other, laughing. Dan was so happy—the meeting had gone well, he’d done a great deal with them and he only had to catch his plane back to Pittsburgh tomorrow, then LA would be in the past again. He stopped to check his phone to calculate the time difference while his colleagues strode on down the alleyway towards the hotel. Trash cans sat overflowing at the sides, papers blew in the warm wind and a distinct rotting smell pervaded the area. Dan moved to follow his friends.

“Spare a dime, buddy?” croaked a voice, and Dan nearly jumped out of his skin. What he’d thought was a pile of old clothes lying at the side of the alley was actually a man. Dan looked around suspiciously. Was he about to be robbed by criminals if he stopped? He started to move away from the homeless man but then he spoke again.

“D-Dan? Is that you?” The man leaned forward to look at him.

Dan’s eyebrows went up into his hair. _How can this bum know my name? Is it a lucky guess? Have Jay Jay and his friends set me up?_ He could see the group waiting for him, beckoning at the end of the alleyway.

“Come on!” Jay Jay called.

 _Maybe they’d said my name and this guy had heard._ Suddenly something about the man struck home with Dan and he stepped towards him. “Oliver?” he gasped. His former friend/ lover looked much thinner than before, he was wrapped in torn clothes pieced together, his hair was long and scruffy, he had a bushy, matted beard. But his eyes…his eyes were Oliver’s. Bloodshot and tired looking, but the same wasted blue they’d always been.

“Dan,” he said, and held out his hand.

Dan grabbed some notes from his wallet, threw them at him and hurried off down the street, his heart pounding as if it would burst. _What the hell? Why is Oliver lying in the street like that? Has he got a part in a movie and I just walked onset?_ His thoughts banged round his brain like flies trapped in a bottle.

“Come on man, don’t give those guys the time of day. They’re junkies,” said one of the young executives.

Dan restrained himself from biting the guy’s head off with a lecture on how bad times can happen to anyone and he should count himself lucky if he had a job and just smiled.

“Which way is it now?” he asked, and they led him towards the hotel.

***

Dan lay on his hotel bed, his hands behind his head. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding since he’d seen Oliver. So either, he was having a heart attack or he was in shock. What the hell was his former friend doing? His brain tried to make sense of the situation, which was the usual effect Oliver had on him. There were three possibilities. He was either on a film set and Dan had wandered in by accident. Or he was practising acting as a beggar—actors did all sorts of weird things to prepare for roles. Or…the least pleasant one…Oliver Lawless, still the coolest guy in his class, was genuinely homeless.

Sighing, Dan sat up and looked round the room aimlessly. _If Oliver is homeless, what am I going to do about it? Give him money? That would just get stolen or knowing him, used for drugs. Take him to a homeless shelter? That would take too much time, I have to catch my plane tomorrow, who knows how long getting him into a shelter would take._

_There is one other option. This hotel room is luxurious and huge. He could come here, have a shower, get cleaned up, stay here after I go home. I can afford to pay for it for a while. I can’t leave him on the street like that. I just can’t._

So before dark, Dan headed back to the alleyway. Of course it was possible Oliver had gone and he’d never find him again—homeless people were moved on regularly by police. If that was the case, Dan resolved that would be the end of it. He wasn’t going to hunt Oliver down, that was too much commitment and he couldn’t give any more. He set his jaw, and turned down the street.

Oliver had been sitting, or slumping, by the trash can near a red door, probably the back door of a restaurant or club. Dan tried to walk confidently to avoid being robbed—who knows what went on in LA, even in daylight—but hesitated when he approached the pile of clothes where he’d seen him before. Maybe it was just clothes this time… 

“O-Oliver?” he quavered, then said, “Oliver,” in a manlier voice. The bundle shifted.

“Dan?” Oliver materialised out of the clothes, like he’d been wearing camouflage. “Is that really you?”

“Yes—y-yes, it’s me b-but what’s happened to you?”

Oliver shrugged. “Just a bit down on my luck right now. Could do with a drink.”

“That’s the last thing you need. Oliver—” Dan’s nerve failed.

“Yes?”

“Come and clean yourself up at my hotel, it’s a beautiful room and I can get you food and clothes and anything,” he gabbled. “I’m not coming onto you, I just want to help you, you look like shit, man, I can’t just leave a friend out here, I want to help.” Out of breath, he gazed at Oliver, who stared back, his expression hardly visible under his long, matted hair and the beard which took up the lower part of his face.

“Are you sure?” Oliver seemed to be blinking fast. “I don’t want to—you know—”

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, of course I’m sure.” He held out his hand. “Come on before I change my mind.”

Oliver struggled to his feet, looking like a mountain man who’d been lost in the wilderness for a decade. “How the hell are you going to get me into your posh hotel?” His voice was dry, he smelled rotten and his clothes were falling apart. 

Dan wrinkled up his nose. “We’ll find a way. But no funny business. I’m still married to Stacey.”

“Yes, Dan. I mean, no, Dan.”

***

At the hotel, Dan got butterflies in his stomach. _How the hell am I going to sneak Oliver into my room? He looks like what he is, a homeless guy—dirty, smelly, suspicious. What the fuck am I doing?_

“Room three six two five please,” he said to the receptionist, giving what he hoped was a winning smile.

She hesitated, looking from him to Oliver uncertainly.

“He’s an actor, preparing for a part,” said Dan quickly, and Oliver gave the young woman a gorgeous smile, just like he used to. She blushed and was about to get the room key, when two security guards marched up to the desk.

“We don’t allow homeless people in our hotel,” said one, poking his finger at Dan’s chest as if he was the homeless one. “We have a reputation to consider.”

“He’s not homeless, he’s just been researching a part he’s going to play in a movie.” Dan didn’t budge, just puffed out his chest proudly and stood tall. Oliver tried to stand tall as well, but was too shaky. The security guards glared at both of them.

“I promise you that within the hour he’ll be back to normal. I guarantee it.” He pointed to himself. “D Biz always delivers on his promises, and you won’t be disappointed. Take my word for it sirs.” He smiled warmly at each guard. “You won’t recognise him in one hour’s time. Have a nice day now and keep us safe from all the genuine criminals on the street. Times are changing and we need all the security we can get.” He patted each of them on the shoulder, and overwhelmed, the two guys moved off towards their usual stations.

“Now, miss, if I could have my key?” He beamed at the receptionist, whose eyes had glazed over at his long speech, and she handed him the key on its huge glass fob.

“Come on.” He took Oliver by the shoulder and guided him into the lift, hoping it would be empty, and realising he was too weak to walk up all the flights of stairs.

When they got into the lift, which was indeed empty, they looked at each other.

“You’re still a motormouth,” said Oliver. “How do you do it?”

“Just comes naturally.” Dan smiled rather falsely, wondering if it was a good idea to take Oliver into his room. But he couldn’t back out now, the poor guy needed help.

When they went up to the hotel room, Oliver hesitated in the doorway, so Dan took over. 

“The bathroom’s there, you have a shower and I’ll order you some food. Here’s some water.” He filled a glass of mineral water and Oliver tipped it into his mouth, drinking it all in one go, swallowing rhythmically. Dan watched his Adam’s apple going up and down in a regular motion, then tore his glance away to look at the hotel room service menu.

“Thanks.” He put the glass down with a crash.

“What are you waiting for? Get in the shower.” Dan didn’t even look at him, just pointed vaguely in the direction of the bathroom. He heard shuffling feet, then the door banging and the shower water gushing down.

Dan decided to order some chicken sandwiches, mineral water and apple juice. He didn’t want to overburden the stomach of someone who hadn’t eaten for a while, and picked up the phone.

He heard groaning from the bathroom, it was a deep, heartfelt groan of gratification, then gasped as the noises became regular. _Is that just the pleasure of getting clean or..? He’s jerking off in there, for sure…Same old sex obsessed Oliver._ He rolled his eyes.

The constant moaning was distracting though, so Dan paced up and down until a knock on the door made him jump. The visitor was a maid bringing the food and she frowned when she heard the groans from the shower.

“Thank you dear, that’ll be all,” he said quickly, handing her a few dollars as a tip. “Bye now, take care.” 

She looked bewildered and hurried out.

Dan couldn’t stand the sound of Oliver jerking off in the shower, it was too disturbing, so he decided to go out and buy him some clothes. His current ones were in no state for anything other than burning, so he left the food covered up in its plastic wrap and wrote a note for his guest, telling him where he was going and not to do anything stupid. He didn’t want to come back and find Oliver fucking someone—although was he in any condition to do that? Probably not, but Dan didn’t want to think about that idea too much.

***

Dan walked back to the hotel with a pair of jeans and a pair of smart trousers, two pairs of shorts, four t-shirts, underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste and deodorant. He had no idea what size Oliver was in clothes so had been forced to guess, and hope he liked what he’d bought. 

He entered the room to see Oliver sitting on the bed covered in the sheet and surrounded by sandwich crumbs. He had washed his matted hair and beard, but there was still too much of it and it looked awful.

“You can’t go to sleep with all that wet hair.” He put the bags of clothes down on the couch.

Oliver shrugged. “What else can I do?”

“Cut it?”

“How am I going to cut my own hair?”

“I could cut it?” Dan already regretted offering.

“Okay. With what?”

“This hotel is very well equipped.” Dan ambled to the dresser and took some scissors out of the drawer with a flourish. He put a large towel on the floor and a chair in the centre of it.

“Come on then.” He beckoned Oliver over.

“Not planning to cut my throat, are you?”

“Of course not.”

Oliver hesitantly got off the bed and sauntered over. He was naked.

Dan’s jaw dropped and he grabbed some shorts from the bag. “Put these on! I bought them for you.” He turned away to look out of the window.

“Dude, please. You’ve seen me naked before.” There were noises of putting his clothes on however. “You can look now, great aunt Mary.”

Dan peeked back to check and he was wearing them.

“What style would sir like?” He posed with the scissors. “Perhaps a Mohican? You’ve got enough hair.”

“No, thanks. Just a normal short haircut please.” He smiled sweetly. “Don’t shave it all off.”

Dan began by hacking off as much of the long hair as he could, it was like cutting a hedge, but as he got closer to Oliver’s head it became easier as it was less matted. His hair bounced back as Dan sheared more and more off and it started to get some life back, resisting when he ran his fingers through it to neaten it. He was only doing that to make it look nice, of course. As he got closer to the head, he had to get closer to Oliver, who smelled far better than earlier. Spicy and musky scents from the shower gel, shampoo and whatever else he’d put on himself.

“So you had a nice long shower then.” Dan was almost overwhelmed by the strong combination of smells, which seemed to be increasing with citrus and floral joining the others.

“Yes thank you.”

 _He knows I know what he was doing in the shower._ “It’s about three inches long now.”

“What?!”

“Your hair. What did you think I meant?”

“Oh nothing, nothing.”

“Stop laughing or your hair will be crooked.”

“You’re not much of a barber then, are you?”

“Want me to stop?”

“No! Please don’t!”

Finally Dan was finished with the hair. Now just the beard to go.

“I can’t cut your beard with you sitting here, you’ll have to—er—lie on the bed.”

“Okay, this is so good. I hated having all that hair, even though it kept me warm in the winter.” He grinned into Dan’s face, which was overwhelming and the bigger man swallowed, his eyes widening.

Oliver walked to the bed with a spring in his step now he’d lost the burden of hair. He lay down on his back on the bed.

“I’m ready.”

Dan opened yet another drawer to fetch the shaving kit the hotel provided, and brandished the razor. “Keep still or I could do you an injury.”

His guest looked a little scared but obediently lay very still.

Dan started with the beard as he had done with the head hair—hacking it off with scissors as best he could but he obviously had to take more care as he didn’t want to cut Oliver’s face. He was kneeling by the bed and was aware he was being scrutinised closely, but ignored the gaze of the tired blue eyes.

As the beard got shorter, Dan used the razor, being more gentle and careful to stretch the skin just right to get every angle and every hair. The cut hair fell away onto the bed and the floor, thick and dark, like rotting vegetation. Dan felt like he was sculpting, revealing the face of a beautiful statue, little by little, especially as Oliver was lying there, as still as a statue. The only parts of his face moving were his eyes, following Dan’s every action.

“There. Done it.” Dan wriggled backwards. “My arm hurts now.”

Oliver still lay there silently, gazing at him.

“You can get up, it’s okay.” Dan felt a bit uncomfortable, so turned away to clear up the mess of hair, the chair, the towel, clean the scissors and razor. He fussed around for a few minutes doing all this, then turned back to his client, who was now sitting on the bed, wearing a big smile. And that was all he wore. Even though he wasn’t as toned or tanned as he had been five years ago, he was still hot Oliver, especially now his hair was short and his beard had gone. Still as long and lean, with the cheeky grin, and the half closed eyes as if he was peering through the smoke of a hundred joints.

“What happened to your shorts?”

“It’s too hot in here, I needed some air.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “You’re something else, you really are.”

“No, you are! Thanks for doing this. Not just the hair, I mean the—you know—everything—I can’t tell you how much I—” He stopped, gulping. 

Was Oliver…crying? Dan stared, then hastily, he began to talk. “You’d like what I did with my office now. Bill retired so Dale and I redecorated it in pastel shades. That brown made me feel like it was the 1970s, so we…” He waffled on about how the decoration looked now, how the business was going, how life in Pittsburgh continued. When he ran out of things to say on those subjects, he started on his unofficial job.

“Now I’m kind of like the town counsellor, I volunteer three nights a week at the counselling service. No one in that town fucked up quite as much as I did when you and I—er—you know what happened—so they feel comfortable talking to me about anything. I’ve heard all sorts of stories, you wouldn’t believe me if I was unprofessional enough to tell you. It’s always the quiet ones, that saying is totally true—”

“It is,” interrupted Oliver, who seemed happier now, and winked at him. Dan forgot what he was saying, and groped for another subject.

“What about you?” he blurted. “How did you become homeless?” _Tactful Dan. Real tactful._

“Oh, you know…this and that.”

“No. I don’t know. The first step to accepting you have a problem is admitting it.” He stepped forward and sat on the bed, inspired to solve his friend’s problems.

“Well—er—I guess—my advice is, don’t fuck around with rich people and their partners.” He avoided Dan’s glare.

“For fuck’s sake Oliver, you knew this would happen sooner or later. You fuck about far too much. And I turned my life around after what we did, why can’t you?”

“I haven’t got your money, have I? I’m not a business man like you! I’ve only got—”

“Your money goes on drugs, that’s why!”

They glared at each other. 

“I’m tired now, I want to sleep.” Oliver turned away, then back again. “Can I have the bed? Sorry I shouted. Don’t throw me out, will you?” He looked genuinely scared and Dan relented. _Who knows what he’s been through, these last months? I mustn’t push him into changing too quickly._

“Course I won’t. You have the bed and I’ll have the couch.” Dan hoped the couch would accommodate his ample frame because he wasn’t getting into bed with Oliver any time soon.

However, his guest was falling sideways with exhaustion so he went over to make him more comfortable.

“Slide down the bed a little bit,” he said, and Oliver obediently did so. Dan tucked the sheet over him. “Night night,” he said, and tiptoed away. Oliver seemed to be already asleep.

It was a good idea to get back on Pittsburgh time so Dan decided to sleep too. He pulled the blinds shut and got undressed apart from his underpants, then lay down on the couch. His mind was racing though. _Am I doing the right thing taking care of Oliver? What will he do now, he can’t go back on the streets. Can I find him a job? Could I employ him at my company? I know! He can be Dale’s assistant in LA! Perfect!_ The brilliance of this idea made his heart pound, but then the green snake of jealousy curled in his gut. _Dale is as obsessed with Oliver as I am—I mean—as I used to be. Dale would love to be best buddies with him. This could be good or bad. Good that he’ll keep Oliver occupied and away from me, Stacey and the kids, but bad because—because—I’ll be jealous._

A voice interrupted his thoughts. “Dan. Just get in bed with me already.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin. Again. Oliver had that effect on him.

“Remember what I said, no funny business, I’m still married to Stacey, I—”

“Get over yourself, stud! I just want you to hold me.”

 _Is that a tremble in his voice?_ Dan hesitated.

“N-no one’s even t-touched me for a year.” There was a definite tremble then.

Against his better judgement, Dan moved faster than he ever had in his life, he jumped off the couch, nearly knocking everything over, and shuffled into bed with Oliver, who pulled him close. He felt so good, it was like coming home to a warm, familiar body, and they both groaned and relaxed, stretching against each other like cats in front of a fire.

With a squeak, Dan realised that somehow, he’d forgotten that Oliver wasn’t wearing any clothes. He willed himself not to panic but relax instead. He also realised that Oliver felt bony and thin. The last time in LA, Oliver had been muscly and firm, the perfect beach body, but now he felt smaller and more vulnerable.

“You haven’t been eating properly,” he blurted, then bit his tongue.

“I’m homeless, you jerk!”

“Sorry, sorry.” He held the thinner Oliver tightly. He definitely hadn’t felt like this the last time they’d been in the same bed. “Yeah, about that. Wanna tell me what really happened?”

“Well—er—you know. I got involved with someone with a powerful partner, who didn’t like it so decided to destroy me, by stopping anyone giving me acting roles. So I couldn’t pay the rent, then it just spiralled down from there. And my drug taking didn’t help.” He sniffed, and sagged against Dan.

“Oh. I see.” Dan left it there. He wanted to know if it was a man or a woman Oliver had messed around with, but he’d talked to enough people with problems lately to know when to shut up.

“You’re so cuddly.” Oliver snuggled against him, his head falling onto Dan’s shoulder as he was so far down the bed.

“If you mean fat, yes I am. I need to lose weight. D Biz needs to shape up.”

Oliver looked up at him and got a fit of the giggles, he couldn’t stop. He just managed to gasp out, “you and your silly, cute nicknames,” between laughs.

 _Oliver thinks my nicknames are cute._ Dan’s stomach fluttered and he realised he was getting a hard-on holding the giggling Oliver. He tried to think of his business trip expenses to distract himself—he had been treated to lunch by Jay Jay and friends, so that didn’t count, but he’d eaten at the hotel the night before, so that would come out of his business account…He tried to do the calculations in his head but there wasn’t enough blood in his brain.

Luckily, his troublesome companion had already dozed off, obviously feeling safe.

Dan sighed happily, feeling comfortable. _Here I am, holding a homeless guy in my arms, the very one who nearly broke up my marriage and ruined my life, I’ve got a massive hard-on, and I’ll probably miss my plane home so I can look after him. But my life feels perfect right now._ He grinned broadly.

After a few hours Oliver woke up again, stretching and yawning.

“That was the best sleep ever,” he mumbled, cuddling up. “Hm, what’s this?”

Dan jerked involuntarily and snapped, “Leave it alone.”

“Hm…” Oliver’s hands wandered, brushing against the erection. “We’re matching.” He took Dan’s hand and put it on his own hard-on and they both shuddered with pleasure. Oliver pushed against him desperately. “I haven’t had anyone for months, please Dan, please.” His voice was shaky again, like it had been before.

“But you were jerking off in the shower,” quavered Dan, immediately regretting saying it.

“It’s not the same.” His eyes were still the wasted blue colour—less so, but were those tears in them? “But if you don’t want to, I’ll just—” He tried to move away, his whole body shaking. 

_This isn’t the cool Oliver that I met in LA five years ago. It isn’t the sensible Oliver who came round to apologise to me after the reunion disaster. He’s the opposite—an emotional, clinging Oliver. This time, I’m the calm one._

Dan hesitated for a millisecond, teetering on the brink, but it was so long since he’d had any sex, he couldn’t resist. He wriggled his hand down between them and found Oliver’s hard, hot cock. At the same time, Oliver gripped his and both men shouted with pleasure, juddering against each other.

“Shh, we’ll be told off by the manager.” Dan’s voice was trembling with arousal and amusement.

But Oliver blushed. “I haven’t got much strength these days, my hands don’t work so well.”

“Oh.” Dan wriggled his hand again, taking both cocks in his, to let Oliver relax. He felt a sense of control—whatever he did made Oliver jerk and groan and push against him, so he stroked up and down, tugging and squeezing on both of them. Up and down, up and down, up and down.

“Oh my fucking god!” Oliver suddenly elbowed Dan’s stomach by accident.

This put the bigger man off his rhythm and he giggled, gasping, “if you want me to stop just say. Don’t hit me.”

They both laughed, then paused for a minute, gazing at each other. Oliver moved forward a little to kiss him gently on the lips, licking round them and trying to push his tongue in. Dan willingly opened and they kissed passionately for a while, then he got back to jerking their cocks until they were pushing their bodies and mouths against each other desperately, devouring and urgent. Half giggling, half passionate.

As hot stickiness spurted out all over their stomachs, filling the sweltering space between them, Dan managed to open his eyes to see Oliver, his head tipping back, his mouth falling open in ecstasy, and thought how much better it was to see him coming rather than just hearing him like last time. This thought was enough and it burst out of him like a geyser, covering them both again.

***

After they had calmed down, stopped panting and chests heaving, and rolled onto their backs, they gazed at each other.

“You said no funny business.” Oliver looked deeply into Dan’s eyes. “You seduced me, D Dawg.”

“Hm, I think more likely you begged me.”

Oliver frowned and he opened his mouth to speak but Dan interrupted, “I’m just kidding, I loved it, O Train.”

They looked at each other, then burst out laughing, making the bed shake again.

“I’m the O Train, baby, here to make Os.”

“For sure.” They kissed each other leisurely, too sated to need a passionate kiss. They were so hot they’d thrown the sheet off and lay nakedly entwined.

“What about Stacey?”

“She’d never do this. She likes conventional sex in the one position, every time. I think really she prefers her quilting group to me.” 

“Uh oh.”

“Yeah. She never really forgave me for what we did last time in LA.”

“Oh god, Dan I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, you know. She deserves better than me anyway.”

Oliver didn’t know what to say so he just stroked Dan’s large stomach, imagining what it would be like to eat so much food he got fat. It was covered in a gluey white pattern now, like a map, and he became fixated trying to trace a path to somewhere, he wasn’t sure where.

“And I’m tired of trying to control everything, I’ve learned to sometimes just let stuff happen.”

“I’m the opposite of you. I need to learn from you and control more stuff.”

“Guess you do.” Dan shrugged.

“I’m so tired, I want to sleep again.”

“But there’s this sticky mess between us, we should clean it up, we should—” 

“There’s always a sticky mess between us, Dan. One way or another. Just deal with it.”

They cuddled up face to face again—the creamy, hot, stickiness wasn’t dry yet so it bonded their bodies together. It would be hard to clean off later, but they didn’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> I just watched The D Train and felt like writing a story about it, so this emerged and just got longer and longer.
> 
> The only slight problem I had is I couldn't remember what Dan's company does, so if anybody knows...?


End file.
